A pirate's life for me!

Hello hello, and a happy January to all of you. I hope the sun shines as brightly for you as it does here for me. It’s the 26th now and I still can’t believe how fast time is moving. Monday was an exciting day. One of those days that you expect a lot of beforehand, and in the end it delivers a lot, because circumstances don’t allow it to do otherwise. So let me tell you about this day. It was the brainchild of our friend and co-worker Alex. Having recently been moved to a four day work week, Alex has lots of time to wander around town and explore. One of his explorations led to the discovery of a boat available for charter through a local restaurant. And so it was decided that said boat would be hired by the staff and friends of ILA. The cost of a 12 hour charter was 1.5 million dong. Fourteen of us boarded the boat yesterday morning at half past seven. After conversions and divisions the cost worked out to about six bucks a head.

Things looked great on arrival. The boat was moored a few yards off shore so it didn’t end up high and dry when the tide went out. Because of this, we were required to board a small raft and be ferried out to the vessel. As with most enterprises in Vietnam, the transfer to the boat was not uneventful. The “dock” that was provided to reach the raft was simply a shaky rope and plank bridge which led to a rocky outcropping covered in slippery sea moss and sharp shells. This outcropping was also the “stairway” which we descended to the king mattress sized raft. After witnessing Matt fall on his keester within eight seconds of setting foot on the rocks I made a note to myself to be damn cautious. No sooner had I made the raft when an over-zealous Alex upstaged Matt’s tumble 10 fold. With bags of supplies in hand, Alex’s feet went from beneath him and with the grace and beauty of a donkey on ice, skidded on his arse into the ocean. When he came to a halt he was knee deep in water with beer cans floating around him. One had sprung a leak and was spinning wildly while spraying suds about. There was a loaf of bread drifting away, and blood was dripping quite quickly from Alex’s hand. Whether he’d cut himself on a shell or a piece of glass from the champagne bottle that didn’t survive the crash is still undetermined. As things were gathered from the sea, Alex was helped back to dry land to have his cut attended to. Meanwhile the six of us that were already on the raft were taken out to the boat. This trip was made possible by a length of rope attached to the boat, along which one of the staff pulled us. We managed to board the boat without drama and then watched the goings on back on shore. Although our view was impeded by a plant or two, we could see that the remaining boat goers had gone back to the restaurant patio where Alex was. Several minutes later the lot of them finally came back down to the sea and made the crossing to the boat. We were filled in on what had happened. Apparently when Alex got back up to the patio the nature of the situation took hold of him and he passed out in his chair. Thanks to this, he now had a nice new set of marks on his forehead and left eye, where he had made contact with a wall, along with a bandage to top it off. His left hand sported two bandaids, something that would be a source of entertainment later in the day as well. But, for now everyone and everything thing was on the boat and ready to sail. Some of us were in better shape than others.

Our first stop on the high seas came about 10 minutes outside of port. Apparently the plan was to anchor just off of a local fishing net and drop our poles in the water. So, anchor we did, and drop poles we did. After an hour or so of reeling in fish the size of a tube of toothpaste, the crew decided this venture to be exasperating and we upped the anchor and moved on. Next we sailed along the coast to the west, away from the main area of Vung Tau, but still very much in sight of all of the disgusting oil and shipping industry infrastructure and even the school. Yes, that’s right we could see the school. It was staring at us like a face in the shadows watching us on our day off, our day at sea. Well, this was unpleasing to say the least. It was then that the first of a few small problems arose. When we expressed our desire to relocate to the area east of the city, around a headland, and in more open ocean from which the school could not peek at us, the three “captains” (they were restaurant employees) informed us that where we wanted to go was too dangerous. They offered us a different destination, further to the west. This was alright, but still did not relieve us of the foul and filthy water that flows down the Saigon River, toward which we were headed. After another lengthy spell of slow motoring we found ourselves in what looked to be a fish farm/on water market. The water was putrid at best and there was certainly nowhere inviting in sight. It was time for action. We asked Hoan, one of the TA’s that had joined us, to tell the lackeys we wanted to head east. Finally they pivoted the ship and we headed in the desired direction. About an hour later, after running aground on a sand bar, we were passing downtown VT, finally out of sight of the school and headed for open ocean. The high seas! It felt good to rock up and down on the swells and at times the water resembled a colour other than brown. Eventually we were forced to turn the boat around, the waves did in fact look ominous and there were several people feeling ill, and even acting on their feelings by visiting the rail of the boat. So we turned back. What ended up happening was the boat coming to a rest in the main harbour of Vung Tau where we would spend the rest of the day. Around two o’clock over half of our posse was actually evacuated on a small fishing skiff and taken ashore to relieve seasickness. That left six of us, floating on calm waters, eating, drinking and soaking up the sun. A little later on the captains got out some hotplates and cooked up the fish we’d caught. At six o’clock when the sun went down, we called it a night. We reached port just as the sun was setting, and it was a beautiful sight, bright red, with streaks of orange and yellow across the sky. The sun was not the reddest thing in view however. You see, our friend Alex, whose face was mentioned as a source of entertainment, had decreed that he did not believe in sunscreen. So now, at the end of the voyage his face was like a nicely cooked lobster, gleaming with tones ranging from fuchsia to vermillion, except beneath his forehead bandage, which was of course, the entertainment.

The day had taken a lot out of us, and when we got home at half past six we were thoroughly drained. It was a swell day on the high seas though (pun intended).

It’s three days later now and Alex’s face is peeling profusely. His forehead resembles a red canvas with a bandaid size patch of liquid paper smeared across it. It’s ok though, he doesn’t believe in sunscreen ;)

Adam